Whispering Vale

Stretching far beneath distant northern mountains and extending deep into southern wilderness lies the immense Vale of Ravens, dominated by the great woodland now known as Gloomwood—though some locals still mistakenly or stubbornly refer to it as "Ravenswood." Before the arrival of the Gloom, this vast forest was properly named Ravensvale Wood, a name fading from memory as the corruption spreads.
On the eastern side of this sprawling woodland, a smaller valley reaches inward from the open lands of the east, forming a peninsula-like stretch of fertile earth and gentle hills partially encircled by trees. Within this sheltered, fertile pocket sits the village of Ravenshollow, nestled right at the boundary between open fields and the forest's darker fringe.
From the northwest, a gentle river winds its way out of the deeper reaches of Gloomwood, flowing quietly past the village, curving through farmsteads and rolling meadows, then returning to the dense forest further southeast. Immediately north of the village is the narrow, still mostly uncorrupted forest strip called Greenwood Reach, separating the villagers from the mist-shrouded marsh known locally as The Fens.
Farmsteads are scattered along gentle slopes and across open fields, carefully tended despite the forest’s growing shadow. Travelers heading eastward from Ravenshollow, after about a day's ride along the familiar trade road, arrive at the Raven’s Edge Inn. Yet even here, they remain within the valley and beneath the subtle but ever-watchful gaze of the Gloomwood. A stretch of forest still extends eastward just north of the inn, a lingering reminder that despite the distance traveled, the woods are never truly left behind.

The gloom

Around fifty years past, Isolde, once one of the witches trusted by the old forest paths, betrayed her sisters and the balance they protected. Under the growing whisper of the malevolent entity, she served the poisoned tea—a rite that should have honored life and unity, but instead unbound the first threads of corruption.
The Gloom didn’t come as a black wave. It seeped. Trees near the old glades began to rot at the root. Spirits once bound to harmony grew erratic, then silent. Wildlife vanished—or returned altered. Small misfortunes began to compound. A child lost in the woods. A hunter who never returned. A storm that flattened a grove said to be sacred.
Generational Impact:
The elders of the village remember the world before the Gloom—when Nalia still laughed, and the Greenwood Edge truly marked the end of danger.
Middle-aged villagers grew up during the transition—taught old superstitions now infused with real fear.
The young have never known a forest untainted. For them, the Gloom has always been there—something to fear, not mourn.
Social Division: Over that time, belief in the old ways fractured. Some blamed the witches. Others clung harder to them. The temple of the old gods, slowly rebuilt during this era, rose in influence by adapting its rites to the creeping danger, offering explanations and certainty in uncertain times.

Ravenshollow

Ravenshollow is a village on the edge of Gloomwood Forest, where the line between safety and superstition grows thinner with each passing season. Built on ancient land and steeped in old traditions, the village once thrived by harvesting the forest’s bounty—its herbs, game, and timber—under the quiet watch of the witches who kept the darkness at bay. But those days are fading.

Now, a sense of unease lingers over Ravenshollow. The forest, once a source of life, has grown twisted and hostile, and those who venture too far often don’t return. Fear and suspicion spread through the village as the once-proud community fractures into rival factions—some seeking practical answers, others turning to old magic or forbidden powers for protection.

Life in Ravenshollow is one of hardship and paranoia. Food grows scarce, animals grow restless, and strange lights flicker in the woods. Rumors swirl of dark pacts, vanishing villagers, and ancient curses reawakening. Beneath the village’s surface lies a web of secrets, where alliances shift, old grudges fester, and no one knows whom to trust.

Caught between the encroaching forest and the mistrust within, Ravenshollow stands on the brink—where every shadow might hide a threat, and every whisper could be the beginning of the village’s end.